


Comfort Food

by QueenOfTheQuill



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV 2020)
Genre: Gen, Reggie Peters Has Bad Parents (Julie and The Phantoms), Reggie Peters Needs a Hug (Julie and The Phantoms), and also a fully stocked chef's kitchen, bobby's mentioned but not really there, cooking to cope, it's what he deserves, reg is maybe not the most reliable narrator for his homelife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:02:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29924184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfTheQuill/pseuds/QueenOfTheQuill
Summary: Reginald Peters had been cooking since he was nine.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 63





	Comfort Food

Reginald Peters had been cooking since he was nine.

It was the kind of fact that made Alex’s eyes go tight and Luke’s lips thin and Bobby look lost for words. They made the same faces when he mentioned missing practice every other Wednesday because if he didn’t take his clothes to the laundromat, they didn’t get washed, or knowing exactly how much a gallon of milk cost and asking if any of the boys had an extra dollar, because he couldn’t find as much money in the house for groceries that week.

So Reggie didn’t talk about it, even though he kind of _liked_ cooking. It was interesting and his dad only really came in the kitchen to get a beer out of the fridge and his mom always ate takeout on the couch at midnight, when she got back from her shift at the hospital. Sometimes, if there was enough after his dad was done, Reggie left a plate out for her, and he’d lay awake in his bed until he heard the beeping and whirring of the microwave, falling asleep with a smile. It always made him happy to think that when his mom came home tired, she found something homemade waiting. When he knew she ate it, it felt like all the “I love you’s” she never got to say because she was always at the hospital and when she wasn’t at work, she was fighting with Reggie’s dad over the bills and the booze in the fridge and their neighbor Carol and-

Reggie liked cooking. Making food was something he could put his heart into, just like music and the band. Cooking felt like love.

It was one of the things he was most disappointed about, when he, Luke, and Alex fell back into the world as ghosts. Sure, it sucked that most people couldn’t see them, but they had each other and Julie, once she warmed up to them. And they still had music, which was the bomb. But Reggie could barely touch things, and he definitely couldn’t eat. What kind of cook couldn’t taste their own food?

Luke and Alex (mostly Alex) made fun of him for hanging out with Ray, but the man spent a lot of time in the kitchen. Mostly editing photos on his laptop, but still, being in the kitchen let something in him unwind. Even if he kinda agreed with Julie’s aunt about “spaghetti, again?” He could smell the dishes she brought them for dinner every few days and his fingers itched to try out the unfamiliar spices. The most he could do was tip some oregano and garlic powder into the spaghetti sauce when Ray wasn’t looking.

Other than some extra compliments from Julie and Carlos for their dad’s cooking (which made Reggie beam with pride), it didn’t come up much. Until they were hanging out with Julie and Flynn in the garage a few days after the Orpheum concert.

Flynn was holding hands with Julie, letting her see the boys because of something something magic that none of them really understood. They had started out idly trying to figure out what their unfinished business might be, in case it came up again. The longer they talked, the wilder the guesses got.

“We never saw Green Day live.”

Luke leaned forward to fistbump Alex. “I never got to pet this really cute dog I saw on the street.”

“Reggie never got to eat pizza from every shop in LA?” guessed Julie.

“Alex never got to kiss a boy who wasn’t Luke,” Reggie suggested.

Alex flushed instantly and Luke burst out, “Hey, I am a very good kisser, thank you very much!”

Julie looked between them with raised brows. “Wait, you two kissed?”

Alex slid slowly off the couch and under the table in a loose puddle. “Someone please double-kill me.”

“Alex was panicking in the middle of a writing sesh about dying alone and never getting to have his first kiss because everyone would hate him and then Luke just got up and kissed him and then asked him what he thought about a new guitar riff,” Reggie explained to Julie and Flynn brightly. Julie stuffed a hand over her mouth to hide her laugh when a tortured moan came from under the table. Flynn didn’t bother and straight up cackled. Luke just tugged his beanie further down his head, like that would hide him.

“It was a really cool guitar riff,” he muttered, rebelliously.

“Luke never got to seduce Alex with his really cool guitar riff,” Flynn said cheekily.

“I vote we move on to a new topic.” Alex’s head popped up from under the table. “We never got to have Reggie’s French toast that he said he was gonna make the next morning.”

Luke actually _moaned_ , while Reggie felt his ears turn bright red. “Fuck yeah, I think it’d be worth dying twice to have your French toast again bro.”

“Wait, Reggie cooks?” Julie was glancing between the boys. “Is this why you’re always hanging out in the kitchen with my dad?” Flynn sat up, leaning forward from the couch.

Reggie ducked his head and said, “Yeah, kinda,” at the same time Luke shot upright in his chair.

“Reggie doesn’t just cook, ok? He works _miracles_ in the kitchen. One time, we let him loose at Alex’s house and he just, like, _manifested_ a four course meal.”

“It’s not a four course meal just because there’s salad on the table, Luke. And I don’t work miracles, I just know how to boil water without starting a fire,” Reggie said, sticking out his tongue.

“If you’re going to keep mocking me, I’m going back under the table,” Alex said solemnly from the floor, looking at no one in particular.

Julie leveled Alex with an unimpressed look. “How even-?”

“I don’t know!”

“Seriously?” asked Julie, while Flynn just shook her head.

“Riiiiight. I think we’re getting off track, which is that _I’ve_ never had Reggie’s French toast, which I think is probably illegal. Ray’s out on a shoot today, and Tía took Carlos to his baseball game. No one’s here to see utensils floating around by themselves. You wanna give it a try?”

Reggie bounced in his seat. “Really? Yeah! I’ve missed cooking. I know where everything is, see you in there!” He poofed right into the kitchen, too excited to wait for everyone to walk.

He was pulling out Ray’s only cast iron pan when the others made it through the door.

“You _really_ missed cooking, huh?” Julie asked, a little out of breath. She grabbed onto Flynn again when the other girl held out her hand and wiggled her fingers impatiently.

“Yeah.” Reggie put the skillet on to heat while he fished butter, eggs, and milk out of the fridge. “I used to do it all the time at home. Kinda hard to cook when you can’t eat and also people will scream if they see eggs floating by themselves.”

Julie giggled and struck up a conversation with Luke, Alex, and Flynn. Reggie let the noise wash over him, humming _This Band Is Back_ under his breath as he mixed together ingredients. The sizzling noise of the first couple pieces hitting the hot pan settled something in him that he hadn’t known was out of place. When they were perfectly brown, he slid them onto plates, dusting them with powdered sugar, and slid them over to the girls.

“I think the best I ever got it was with this challah from Bobby’s house, but I think it should work fine with your bread.” He handed the syrup over and watched as Julie poured on exactly the right amount. (“That’s criminal,” muttered Alex, eyeing the lake of syrup on her plate. Luke elbowed him in the ribs.)

Reggie grinned when Julie took her first bite, her eyes widening almost comically. “Oh my god,” she muttered, looking down at her plate, back up at Reggie, and back down at her plate.

“Reggie,” said Flynn seriously, putting down her fork and looking him in the face. “I would kill a man for you and your French toast.” Reggie’s grin just got wider. The two girls dug back in, Luke and Alex immediately whining about how they couldn’t eat. Julie was promising, in between bites, to try to find out if they could extend the magic weirdness to food. Reggie turned back to the stove, still smiling.

Yeah. Cooking felt like love.

**Author's Note:**

> Things that hit different after writing this:  
> -The boys dying of tainted food  
> -“Let the man speak. He’s been stress-eating all week!”  
> -✨✨”We were just looking for the kitchen”✨✨  
> -Reggie hanging out with Ray in the kitchen in general  
> -“Your dad seems like the kinda guy who likes to barbeque. I bet he has a great ribs recipe.”  
> -“Why couldn’t they have turned my house into a pizzeria or something?”  
> -Carols’ chef ghost theory


End file.
